January 27

There were a couple of moments this week with Sarah not moving when I wanted her to move. It was as if she was a stubborn mule stuck in some mud. The most frustrating of these moments was when I was in a hurry. Kids can smell hurry the way animals smell fear. So it wasn’t the best moment for either of us, especially when we were finally on our way to get Amy but still haltingly and slowly. I yelled loudly. Then I looked over and noticed my friend on his way to get his daughter, who is Amy’s best friend. I felt a bit embarrassed to be observed so much at my limit. The wonderful thing was that my friend just came over to join us, offered to share his clementine, and walked with us the rest of the way, listening to me vent, with no judgement. That was very kind and very helpful and I hope I can do the same for someone someday. I think for future moments when Sarah and I get so stuck I really need to force myself to go elsewhere until both of us can change our energies. The tricky thing with this is that usually time is exactly what we don’t have. Except maybe we do. I know that time, being on time, not wanting to be late, etc is one of my big challenges for keeping my equilibrium, so probably there is much more flexibility than I perceive in most of these situations.

This coming Thursday is Sarah’s 12th birthday. Her party was yesterday at a bowling alley and it was a success. Sonia, Grandma, and Grandpa were there to celebrate and were also a huge help. Sarah loved the bowling part so much that she was extremely upset when it was time to eat and play arcade games. She ended up screaming and crying on the floor for a bit. The room was just for her party and I knew that everyone in attendance knows Sarah pretty well or has a child who might have a similar moment, so that was ok, and she did end up enjoying the rest of the party too. 

Sarah had been asking for a Rizzo the Rat cake and I had no idea how to make that happen. Saturday morning I was inspired to use part of a cake that Sarah made on Friday (no recipe, just some guidance from me) and the cake and cupcakes that I made to assemble a Rizzo head and part of his body. Previously I thought I would have to draw him and I didn’t anticipate success. Making a large Rizzo with cake pieces worked beautifully and she loved it. He had a yellow sweater with lifesaver buttons. His eyes were chocolate covered almonds. Cupcakes served as ears. I cut a triangle out of one cake to put on top of the full circle cake that was his face so that his nose was above the rest of his face. 

I was impressed with the thoughtfulness of some of the presents Sarah received. They were items that I wouldn’t have thought to get even if I had seen them, and yet she loves them. She got a sequin drawing board where you flip sequins over to change the color. She spent hours playing with it. She also got a Cabbage Patch baby doll. When she opened it, Carl laughed at how excited I was. I used to have one when I was little, though mine was slightly different. Still, it is adorable and Sarah has taken to it way more than I ever would have predicted. She carries it around, gives it chin presses, puts it to bed, and has named it after Grammy (using Grammy’s real name). As to be expected, she has been wearing her new striped capri pants since she put them on yesterday afternoon. As usual, Amy has been having a bit of a rough time witnessing Sarah getting all of the presents. I do have some things for both of them for Thursday. It took me a few years to learn that having a few items for the non-birthday girl really helps. While birthdays are a good time to work through jealousy, it is ok to take the edge off a little bit.

I always feel a mess of varying emotions when it is Sarah’s birthday. Yes! wow! 12! Yet, so much not a typical 12. So much still in toddlerhood with some things, like complete stubborn recalcitrance and tantrums that include banging, throwing, screaming, and slamming. I realize that many people do these things throughout their lives and I am not innocent on that front. But I am weary of it. I am judging it and feeling like we should be past it. Such an outburst happened just a minute ago. While there have been many moments when I could remember that she just needed to have a crying screaming session to get her feelings out, in this moment I didn’t remember. I just felt mad and that I couldn’t understand her. Then I felt about two inches tall. Sarah is still having moments at school that mean she doesn’t join the regular classes. At the end of the school day on Friday her teacher had to give her a shirt with no buttons because Sarah was putting her buttons and zipper in her mouth, escalating all of the things she was being told not to do. Doesn’t she understand how much more easily everything would go if she didn’t escalate the behaviors she knows not to do?? (You could ask the same of me, even if the behaviors are different.) Why can’t she just do school better? Why can’t she just cooperate more? What am I not doing or seeing that would make this better? I know last week I somehow had some wisdom about choosing a different story for myself, choosing that I do have energy for all of this, but right now I don’t. Right now I just feel drained and done. It has been a hard 12 years. An absolutely amazing, life changing, profound, phenomenal, filled-with-the-best-people 12 years. An inspiring, miraculous 12 years that fills my heart daily. But also a ragged one at times. How do these realities coexist in me? is us? I suppose the underlying thing to remember is that sometimes I’m the one that needs a good cry and maybe more sleep, more water, and better food, and forgiveness. I hesitate to share all of this, feeling like a broken record about all of it, but it is also how things are at the moment, and this is my way of remembering my moments. I realize now that I’ve been writing weekly about our journey for over 7 years. That is rather staggering. We have had Sc. doing SR time for 7 years. G. has been with Sarah for almost 9 years. How are all of these large numbers possible? Yet, how not? These wonderful, amazing people are part of our family now, giving their time and love to us all for so many years. I know we are incredibly, deeply blessed and that Sarah has been the cause to find the path to the blessings. So in the big picture everything is really amazing, even if sometimes the road feels muddy and mucky and that I want to stop. I don’t really want to stop. Maybe I just need to have it all be ok and not feel embarrassed about the tough times, as if somehow I shouldn’t have them. Anyway, here we are. Depending on Sarah’s interest of the moment, that is how we describe ourselves when we are off-kilter. We are either on the wrong bicycle, the wrong ball, the wrong bamboo patch, the wrong litterbox, or as Amy said this morning, Sarah and I were eating the wrong cheese! We were! We had a moment of delighted laughing as we celebrated no longer eating the wrong cheese.

Sarah has always had is a sparkly spunky sense of humor and play. Yesterday, Amy brought out Twister and Sarah said she wanted to invite her friends to play too. She asked the kids printed on the box to come play. Then she had the box walk over and move around the board. That was entirely her idea. 

Amy and I have been watching the “Annie” movies, both the most recent and the original. I loved the story when I was little and I love it still. When I was little I had a locket with an Annie doll that I lost in a campground and have looked for ever since. Recently I looked on ebay and was astonished to find that I could have the very same locket and doll, brand new. Of course, now I don’t want it. Plus, I enjoy having something to look for at the camp ground, despite the now-realized fact that I had no memory of what the doll looked like. That seems like a profound analogy for life, with all of us searching this life campground for something we lost but we don’t actually remember what it was so how are we really going to find it? And maybe now we want something different and we already have it but don’t fully appreciate the fact because we are still looking down for the lost thing.

May you have someone kind to bring you company and a clementine, may you remember what your lost doll looked like, may your friends come to play, and may you eat the correct cheese!